Kids, pigs, and lambkins unsuspecting stray;
85
With grim delight he views the sportive band,
Intent on blood, and lifts his murderous hand.
Twangs the bent bow—resounds the fateful dart,
Swift-wing’d, and trembles in a porker’s heart.
Ah, hapless porker! what can now avail[[146]]
90
Thy back’s stiff bristles, or thy curly tail?
Ah! what avail those eyes so small and round,